


The Gatherer

by Elymais



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry Primal
Genre: Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:07:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23226061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elymais/pseuds/Elymais
Summary: Sayla takes a young ward to pass on her knowledge as a gatherer.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	The Gatherer

Golden sun filtered through the forest canopy, casting a mosaic of dancing rays upon the forest floor where a Wenja gatherer and her young apprentice walked an old hunter's trail. Generations and tribes long-forgotten had worn a smooth road into the earth, and now it was Sayla and her ward's turn to walk this way.

The trail crept ever higher and higher along the back of a rocky ridge that separated the Wenja village from the Valley of Oros. Sayla's eyes scouted the trail both before the pair as well as where they'd already traversed, watching for any sign of movement around them as they went. _Only beasts here,_ she thought to herself. She knew this wouldn't be the case once they passed over the crown of the ridge and descended into the heart of the Lesser Valley. Her thoughts raced through the uneasy peace with their southern neighbours, the Sun-Walkers, and to the close calls instigated by their northern neighbours, the Udam, whose trespasses into the Lesser Valley were becoming increasingly frequent. The thoughts which occupied her headspace were soon evicted by another, more menacing presence — the shuffling of her careless ward's feet in the leaf litter as he shuffled alongside her through the forest.

" _Karwa miyi_ ," she whispered sternly. The boy, making enough of a raucous cacophony that his teacher's voice simply didn't reach his ears, continued. " ** _Karwa_** ," she repeated. They both stopped in their tracks as he looked up at her. "Are you aware of the amount of noise that you're making?"

The boy's cheeks went red. "I-" he began to stutter. "Sorry, _anna_ Sayla, I didn't-"

"We must be discrete once we cross the ridge," explained Sayla, cutting him off. "Do you understand?"

The boy opened his mouth to reply, but hesitated, and instead gave only an understanding nod, lifting his feet more carefully thereafter. The sound of birdsong, no longer in competition with the row coming from the forest floor, once more rang out into the air. The songs fluctuated in volume and variety as they passed by; the singers themselves danced about from the canopy to the ground, darting away whenever the pair came too near. Soon they approached the crest of the ridge, where a hunter's camp lay sleepily tucked into a rocky outcrop, covered by an overhanging ledge. The fire had been recently doused, but there were still embers visible in the pit.

Sayla readily descended upon the campsite, but the boy at her side hesitated. "A-are you sure it's safe, _anna_ Sayla?"

" _Karwa miyi_ ," she chuckled, not looking up from a rush basket from which she took the lid. She lifted the basket in her other hand and inspected the contents, shaking the basket, then her head, then placing it back down on the ground without actually taking anything from it. "If I didn't know this was a Wenja camp, do you think I'd come walking in like this without even a glance?"

"Well, no-"

"Trust in my judgement, _karwa miyi_." She placed the lid back on the basket and stamped out the few surviving embers in the firepit with her foot. "We're still in our own territory until we actually descend from the ridge into the valley," she explained, circling the outcrop and scaling the jagged rocks up to the ledge. Placing her hands above her eyes, she peered down into the valley. There was a trail far below that ran parallel to the ridge before turning sharply eastward into the centre of the Lesser Valley. Sayla narrowed her eyes and followed the trail to a tuft of smoke that was snaking its way into the sky from a hill in the middle of the valley.

"Can you see anything?" said the boy, shielding his eyes from the sun with both hands and looking up at where his teacher stood.

"Looks like somebody's camped out on the Round Hill," replied Sayla.

"Are they Wenja?" the boy asked.

"Can't see that far, _karwa_."

"Oh. Right." The boy lowered his eyes and looked out over the valley. He stood up on his toes, but the canopies of the trees on the face of the ridge obscured his view without the benefit of Sayla's vantage point. "We won't run into anybody we don't want to, will we?"

Sayla's heart froze. She knew there was a risk from the Udam, whose advances into the Lesser Valley had become more brazen since the previous winter. Hélas — save for a few, the Wenja seemed to have forgotten the threat that the defeated Udam could still present, even fragmented as they were now.

" _Anna_ Sayla?"

"What?" she replied. He opened his mouth to repeat what he'd said, but she cut him off before he could. "Oh, right," she said, turning to climb down from the ledge. "The Sun-Walkers are no threat to us," she said, piecing the words together between movements as she came down the rock face, "and the Udam aren't known to linger in the Lesser Valley south of the water gap." She dropped down from the rock face, stumbling to the ground with a grunt before catching her footing. "Alright — let's go," she said, pointing down the trail. "We've still got some distance to cover before we can rest."

"About that-" said the boy. "How far are we going today?"

Sayla stared blankly at the boy for a moment, searching for words. She shook her head and sighed. "You certainly do ask a lot of questions, _karwa_ -"

"And you don't have to call me that," said the boy indignantly. "I have a name." Sayla narrowed her eyes and placed her hands at her sides, looking down at the boy along the length of her nose. The boy's stubbornness left him as he realised his mistake, and he shrank slightly as he bowed his head and clasped his hands together. "My apologies, _anna_ Sayla. That was out of turn."

Sayla eased her stance and scratched her head. "So, what should I call you then?"

"My name is Harsika," said the boy. "Son of Pala."

She nodded and shifted her weight to her other foot, then pointed in the direction of where the smoke had been rising from the hilltop. "We're going to that campsite, but from here it's not as simple as tumbling down the face of the ridge. We've got to go around to the north, so it'll take a bit of time — but we've been moving at a good pace, so we shouldn't be too long in getting there."

"How long is _too long_?" asked Harsika, once more standing on his toes and peering out to the horizon. A little leap brought him high enough above the treeline to see where the hill was. Once more and he had the full picture in his head, and was satisfied.

"The journey's as long or short as I say it is," said Sayla, beginning to walk along the trail once more. "But you'll know we're there once we're there."

"As you say, _anna_ Sayla," said Harsika, quickening his gait to keep up with Sayla's longer strides.

"I do say, _Harsika_ ," said Sayla.

The boy's ears perked up at the mention of his name, and his heart followed shortly behind. He thought to say something more, but he let the thought perish as he followed Sayla along the path that snaked along the crest of the ridge.


End file.
